by Tay Marley
“Yep.” He waved his phone at me while I slipped into my black ankle boots. I was surprisingly excited about tonight.
We double checked that we had everything and then headed downstairs to the Uber. The party was being held at student housing, which was about five minutes from the campus.
When we pulled up in front of the two-story house, there were people everywhere. If this was what a Sunday-night party looked like, then I couldn’t even imagine how things got on a Saturday night. Red cups, beer bottles, and caps littered the entire front lawn. Broken furniture spilled from the front deck, and there was a worn-out old couch that I thought might have been doused in gas smack in the middle of the grass.
That was concerning.
The music was loud when we were in the Uber, and once we got out, it only got worse. Or better. Depended what kind of mood you were in. Personally, I was into it.
We were greeted from all directions as we made our way into the house. It didn’t seem to matter that no one knew who we were. Slurred “hello”s and “hey”s were thrown our way from drunken college kids.
“Everyone’s super friendly!” I shouted over the music.
It was crowded inside the house, so making it to the kitchen looked like it was going to take a while. Suddenly, an enthusiastic boy jumped in front of us and lifted his hands in the air. “CALARTS FUCKING TALENT WEEK!”
As quick as he’d appeared, he was gone again, but I could hear him shouting the same thing over and over again as he moved through the living area.
“A participant, I suppose?”
We kept walking in search of something to drink. My small size left me vulnerable to being trampled and pushed around. Even the odd elbow got me in the side of the face. Drayton slipped his arm around my waist and pulled me against his side, acting almost as a human shield, and quickened our pace toward the kitchen. I was grateful because at this rate, I’d have been knocked unconscious before I’d even had the chance to throw back one beverage.
When we got to the kitchen, I took note of its enormous size. The actual appliance side was relatively average, but the dining area was large enough to have a beer-pong game set up, and dozens of people watched the match. At the end of the room was a sliding door that led to a backyard where, of course, there were multitudes more people.
Drayton, with his arm around my middle, leaned in close. “Beer? Or should we have some vodka shots?”
“I want to play that!” I pointed at the beer-pong table and gave him a determined nod. “Doubles?”
“I don’t know, Cheer. I’m a seasoned beer-pong player. I can only have the best of the best on my team.”
Just then Cooper appeared beside me and placed one hand on my shoulder, while the other cradled a beer. “Hey,” he smiled. “You guys made it! Have you had a drink yet?”
“Hey! I was actually suggesting that Dray and I should have a game of beer pong. Apparently, though, I’m not worthy of his team.”
“I’ll be on your team.” He handed me the cup of beer. I reached for it, but it was snatched from Cooper, and I turned around to find Drayton downing it behind me.
“What the hell?”
He threw the cup over his shoulder and glared at Cooper. “Don’t accept open drinks from strangers, Cheer.”
“If you still want to play,”—Cooper grabbed the girl closest to him, Carrie from the quad—“this is Carrie; she can be on your team, Dray.”
She stumbled into Drayton’s chest. She was wasted but she stared up at him with goo-goo eyes. “Yes, I can.”
It would be a miracle if she could walk in a straight line, let alone throw a little white ball into a cup. I had this.
But as it turned out, it didn’t matter what terrible aim Carrie had because Drayton and I became so competitive that Carrie and Cooper got pushed to the side, and the game went from doubles to singles.
We were down to two cups each. Drayton had the game in the beginning. He was so smug about it. But then I began to sink ball after ball, and it surprised me, but I think that the alcohol had a hand in that. Regardless, I was on a roll.
“This is bullshit!” Drayton threw his arms in the air when I landed the ball in his second-to-last cup. “You’re cheating.”
“As if!” I scoffed. “I have a good arm, remember!”
I was referring to our first meeting, when I’d almost caught a football with my face but impressed him when it landed in my hands instead. He knew it, too, and grinned.
“Drink, Drayton!” Cooper laughed from the sidelines as he cradled an almost unconscious Carrie.
“Shut up, Cooper,” Drayton scoffed and poured the cup’s contents down his throat after he had plucked the ball out.
He lined up his shot while swallowing his mouthful. He threw the ball at the closest cup and the entire crowd groaned in disappointment when it bounced off the rim. I jumped up and down with excitement because now it was my turn, and I was determined to sink the one that would make me the winner.
The crowd quieted. It didn’t make a hell of a lot of difference because the rest of the party was still squealing, yelling, and shouting over the thumping music. But it did add a level of suspense as I lined up my shot and threw the ball, landing it perfectly in Drayton’s last cup.
I screamed, my hands flew up, and I jumped up and down, cheering alongside the crowd. Drayton smiled from the other end of the table. He raised his last cup as a toast and mouthed Congratulations before he threw it back.
Later on, when it was quiet, I planned on rubbing the win in his face and ensuring that he ate his words of doubt. For now, I smiled back and watched as he wiped his mouth then frowned at something behind me. I didn’t get the chance to turn around because I was lifted up at the waist and spun around too fast for someone who’d just drank eight cups of beer.
“That was impressive!” Cooper laughed then set me back on my feet while keeping his arms secured around my waist. We shuffled toward the sliding doors to make room for the next beer-pong match. “I had no idea that you could play like that.”
“Neither did I,” I admitted. I wasn’t sure how I felt about the fact that there was not an inch of space between us. “That was my first time playing.”
“For real? Do you want to dance?” His voice was low and his hands slid down my waist, his fingers lacing with mine. He was more confident than he had been when we’d met. I could smell the alcohol on his breath.
“No, she’s good,” Drayton’s voice was followed by an arm that snaked me away from Cooper’s hold. “Aren’t you, babe?”
This was getting stupid. This had nothing to do with stepping in to save me from the embarrassment of rejecting Cooper. Drayton was just behaving like a jealous twit, and I hated that it made me feel something.
“I thought you guys weren’t together . . .” Cooper instinctually took a step back.
“It’s complicated.” Drayton shrugged. “We’re working on a few things.”
“Drayton! Sto—”
“Right.” Cooper flashed me a sheepish smile then turned to head outside before I could correct the situation. “That’s cool. I’ll see you both ’round.”
He disappeared and I shrugged out of Drayton’s embrace. I was a little drunk, but I was sober enough to know that he was drunk, too, and I hoped that this night didn’t turn into a disaster because of it.
“What is your problem!?” I gave his chest a slight shove, which seemed to surprise him. “Why do you keep cock blocking me? First Josh, now Cooper—what’s going on Dray? What’s with the games?”
“You don’t have a cock for me to block, Cheer,” he drawled and earned a frustrated breath from the nostrils from me. “I’m not even doing anything. You don’t seem that interested in him anyway. I’m sure if you were, you wouldn’t let me get in the way.”
“Just—just shut up and quit it!” I snapped. “I don’t
do it to you!”
We’d ended up in the corner of the room, shuffled slowly into it as people walked in and out of the sliding door and around the crowded space. I was backed into the corner and, not that he knew a lot about boundaries to begin with, he had truly discarded personal space from his vocab.
“You’re supposed to be my wingman tonight, Dray.” He was infuriating me, but at the same time I couldn’t stop my heart from racing as he got closer, causing everything else around us to fade out. “You’re doing a shit job. The point is to find someone for me, not scare them off.”
“Do you honestly think any of them can make you feel the way I can?” He grabbed my waist and spun me around, pulling my back flush against his front. This was an unexpected turn of events, but the tension immediately overruled any argument that I may have been concocting. “Do you think they know what makes you feel good?”
His voice was low and raspy, but despite our intoxication, it was stable and dominating. His hands moved slowly and purposefully, traveling up from my waist and sliding across the front of my stomach, dancing tantalizingly and gently underneath my chest.
“Do you think that they know that you like this?”
He lifted one of his hands into the hair at the back of my head and tugged on it, while his other hand dragged downward to lift the bottom of my shorts as he rubbed the front of my smooth thigh. My stomach flipped as his hot breath fanned the side of my neck. I tipped my head back and allowed him access. It was too good. All of it was beyond sensual, and I could feel myself coming undone. His touch left a spark, setting fire to my mind.
“I know what you like, Dallas,” he growled beside my ear.
The way my name sounded on his lips brought a soft moan from me. Embarrassment wasn’t something that I had time to feel because his grip on my hair tightened in response, pulling my head back farther as his other hand wrapped around my wrists. Goose bumps covered my skin as his fingertips grazed the length of my sides and he peppered soft, toothy kisses along my bare shoulder and neck. “None of them can make you feel this way, Dallas.”
He spun me around and slammed me against the wall, his face hovering a mere inch from my own, and every part of my body ached for him. I could barely form coherent thoughts around him when I was sober and right then, I didn’t see any reason why we shouldn’t go back to the hotel immediately and give in to each other.
“Kiss me,” I mumbled, breathless with want. I needed one last, final push and I knew that as soon as his mouth found mine, I’d be done.
He leaned against the wall, his hands on either side of my head as he brought his face closer. Before our lips met, his expression dropped. He looked almost as though he was in pain, a stark contrast to the earlier lust-infused look. He studied me with an intense glare. We stayed locked in a trance of hot, sweaty, breathless energy for what seemed like an eternity.
“Not tonight, Cheer,” he mumbled, lacing our fingers together. “Not tonight.”
He exhaled loudly and my heart dropped when he straightened up and stepped back. The space between us suddenly felt enormous, and despite the fact that he’d just rejected me, I couldn’t help but want to comfort him because he looked a little broken, and that hurt.
Chapter 13
“Kiss me? Ugh. Kiss me?!”
I slapped a hand across my face and shook my head in hopes that I could physically expel the memories of last night’s fiasco straight out of existence.
“What am I? A fucking seductress? Kiss me!” I mocked drunk Dallas. Because that Dallas was not me. I didn’t know her.
To be honest, that was pretty much the last clear memory that I had of the previous night; the rest of the evening was a bit of a blur. A hangover would seem like an appropriate aftermath, but I didn’t feel too horrible, although I could have used an ibuprofen and some water.
After Drayton had politely rejected the “hot offer” to lay his lips on mine, I’d promptly drowned myself in more alcohol than I thought my body was physically capable of handling. The flashback of our little tease fest immediately caused me to flush, and I wanted to crawl into a hole every time it came flooding back to the forefront of my mind.
I peeked over at the sleeping dead beside me and remembered why it had been so easy to fall prey to his charm. He lay on his back with his bare chest on display and his head rolled to the left. Just the sight of him erupted a flutter in my stomach, and I could honestly say that I’d never felt a sexual tension like this with anyone else ever before.
The image of my intoxicated self, leaning against the wall in a hot and bothered state came barreling to mind once again, and I scrunched my features in distaste as I whispered, “Kiss me, ugh,” in a taunting tone.
“I would have.”
I squealed when Drayton’s deep voice broke the silence around us. I was struggling with the shame before I knew that he was listening to me relive last night’s nightmare out loud, and now, it was ten times worse. He turned his head and smiled at me with tired eyes.
“I’m not into taking advantage of drunk girls.”
“You were drunk too. We had the same number of cups. Minus two. If anything, it would have been me taking advantage of you. You had more to drink than me.”
“I’m also twice your size and can hold my booze really well.” He rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow, causing his pecs and biceps to flex. “But don’t worry about it. I could tell you about the rest of your night, and I’m sure that might take away the embarrassment of asking me to kiss you.”
“What?”
“You were a mess,” he said. “I had to throw you over my shoulder and put you in a cab because you wouldn’t leave.”
“I don’t remember that . . . I mean, I have a mantra: ‘If you don’t remember it, forget about it.’ I don’t want to hear any more.”
“No, you probably don’t.”
Drayton saying No one can make you feel the way I do echoed around my head. Once again, he’d said and done all of these things to indicate that he wanted me, then turned around straight after and carried on as though nothing had happened. One person’s actions had never confused me more in my entire life, and if I weren’t so afraid of his answer, I would have come right out and asked what the hell he wanted from me.
“I’m going to get ready.” I leaped out of bed and started searching through my duffel.
“You going back to the campus?”
“Yes,” I told him. “Alone.”
I headed toward the bathroom with my handful of clothes while Drayton watched me with a curious expression. I hated that I wanted him. I needed to stay focused on the future. To top it all off, we’d be living in two different states next year, which meant that he wasn’t included in my next steps, and I needed to remember that. It was hard to remember anything when he looked at me with those hooded eyes and delectable lips.
After a shower, I changed into a pair of ripped denim high-waisted shorts and a tucked-in white tank top. The sun was shining and there wasn’t a cloud in sight. Drayton was standing beside the door when I emerged from the bathroom. He was dressed in a T-shirt and shorts. I dropped my towel onto the end of the bed. “What are you doing? I said that I’m going alone.”
I slipped my feet into a pair of flip-flops, saying quickly, “Drayton, I don’t need you to come and protect me. You’re so rude to Cooper. It makes things uncomfortable. I’m going to do the tour alone.”
“That was a beautiful speech, Cheer. But I actually have plans of my own today. I was just waiting to let you know so that I wasn’t gone when you came out of the bathroom.”
Physically trying to stop a blush from smothering your entire face is literally impossible. No matter how much lip biting, breathing, and attempting to feel confident that you do, if heat wants to find its way onto the apples of your cheeks and create an ugly red rash on your neck, it will.
“O
h. My bad.” I folded my arms. “What are you getting up to?”
The only way to save myself was to act cool. It was futile. He could tell how embarrassed I was. The stupid smug grin on his lips made that evident.
He tapped the space underneath my chin and winked before turning around and opening the door. “All sorts.”
In that morning’s frustration with Drayton, I had forgotten to ask him for Cooper’s number. When I got to campus, I headed straight to the administration office, knowing that they would be able to get hold of him.
The office was no longer vacant. Three receptionists were busy behind the round desk, taking phone calls, talking to students, and assisting teachers. I’d been expecting to wait a while to find Cooper, but much to my surprise, he was sitting on the couch bopping his head along to whatever was playing on his earphones.
He lifted his head when he noticed my approach, and a wide smile made little dimples on either cheek. I wasn’t usually one to fuss over dimples—I’ve never really understood the hype—but they did look gorgeous on his sun-kissed skin.
“Hey.” He pulled out his earphones and wrapped them around his phone. “Talk about timing. I thought you might show up today.”
“Were you waiting for me?”
He was about to answer when a woman handed him a little USB. He thanked her and held it up in way of explanation. “I was waiting for this, actually. I was planning to stick around for a little longer, just in case you did come in.”
“Good timing.”
We walked through a door that led from the office into a wide, busy corridor.
“Since our tour has unofficially begun,” he said as I took in all of the bodies walking past us, or dancing against the walls, or singing as they stared out of a window, “all of these are dance classes.” He pointed at the various doors. “It’s not always like this in here. People are waiting for the next class to begin.”
I peered inside the doors as we passed them, admiring the dancers—ballet, jazz, hip-hop, contemporary (one class I wished I could join). We came to the end of the corridor and stepped into a sheltered walkway that traveled to another block.